Run. Dog. Cat. Cat. Me.

Everything you need to know about running and life and any other random crap I find bouncing through my mind like a ping pong ball. And always be sure your shoes are happy.

Archive for the tag “rain”

I ran in the rain and I liked i-it

It’s a lovely dreary rainy day here in Wonderland, a steady dripping grey blur mottling the surface of the lake like heavily printed dotted swiss.  Murph T. Dog is thrilled, flopped in the dining room staring forlornly across the kitchen at the wet deck, ears drooping.  Murph knows.  Sometimes life just sucks.  Sometimes you get a bath.  Sometimes you manage to get out and eat the neighbor’s garbage.  You just never know from one minute to the next how things are going to turn, he thinks, looking at me with sad dog eyes, slightly accusingly.  It’s raining in his bathroom.  He sighs and closes his eyes, He’ll sleep away this mucky day.

Chunker, in whose bathroom it is not raining, apparently found the change in air pressure invigorating, smacking poor Mo soundly as he walked innocently past, then helping clean out closets.

chunk in bag

She quickly decided to bag that idea and instead hauled her babies around the house mewling sorrowfully for all the kittens she will never have.

chunk and baby

If that’s all the better care she can give her babies we made a good decision.

I was antsy, about as agitated and stir-crazy as Munker.  I needed to get out of the house.  I have no babies to worry about any more and I was free to head out for a run.  My Garmin finally located the mother ship, searching a bit harder than usual with the clouds moving in but I’d been checking and I knew the rain wasn’t going to hit until about noon.  It being Memphis and all you can pretty much bet whatever the weather forecasters say is going to be spot on.

I am currently without a Piece of Paper to Live By from my coach.  I’ll have it soon enough and for now I shall enjoy not knowing what track work lurks next week.  Without the POPTLB I was free to slog about wherever I desired at whatever pace I decided.  Sweet Freedom, a purposeless run!

A man was released from prison.  He’d paid his dues to society and was free to go.  He wandered down the street, dazed with joy, gazing freely about.
“I can go over there and get a milkshake”, he thought, “or I can go sit in the coffee shop and read the paper”
Delirious with joy he skipped down the street singing, “I’m FREE!  I’m FREE!!!”

 A little boy stood at the corner, watching.  As the man skipped past the little boy said, “Tho what, Misther?  I’m FOUR.”

I jogged to a road I haven’t run on much but will again soon, large houses on large lots, a curving winding hilly road with little traffic, like being out in the country.  I ran down the center of the road looking at trees and houses, flowers blooming, someone trimming hedges.  I ran across the road, back and forth, back and forth, just because I could – I’m FREE – in slow easy S’s from curb to curb.  I can go over here.  I can go over there.  I’m FREE!  Nothing hurt this morning, the hand-sized Stanky Creek black and purple bruise healing well and the heaviness having moved out of my legs.

Free to run, free from a plan, free from time, I ran.  It started to mist and I ran.  It misted heavily.  I looked down at the dampening road watching my shoes pass beneath me, and I ran.  Two miles from home a steady rain started, a solid rain, no huge downpour, just steady.  I ran, soft drops of water dripping off my hat, off my nose, running down my legs into my squishing shoes until I noticed at the edge of some trees the twin fawns I’ve been seeing around.  I stopped, standing in the rain, looking at the deer as they chewed while gradually moving into the trees and then I ran again through the rain, down the hill, around the turn toward home, looking up and down and all around at the wet world, alive, breathing deeply, running in the rain.

Oh, the places you’ll go (with sincere apologies to Dr. S)

“You should try Indian food. It’s better than a triathlon.” I won’t name the source, but let’s just call her the honorary mayor of Turdville today. 😉

Heather suggested Indian food.  Becky had never had Indian food but I pointed out how good it could be.  Somehow, after a nice buffet at Bombay Palace, I was elected the Honorary Mayor of Turdville after declaring today to be “National Stupid Crap Weather Compounded By Being a Monday and I Have No Girl Scout Cookies Left in the Hiding Place Day and I hereby decree that everyone is not only permitted, but encouraged – nay – REQUIRED – to go ahead and quit trying to feel all perky and sunshiny because you’re just faking it anyway and that’s pissing me off too.”

Here is our National Stupid Crap Weather Day logo:


And our Official Turdville Motto:  “Welcome to Turdville.  Go Away.”

My Staph Sargent-at-arms thought we should have an official Turdville Poem and suggested a Poetry contest.  As the Mayor of Turdville I felt it only right that I be the judge of the contest, which I – surprisingly – won! and declared myself the Poet Laureate of Turdville.  I offer my sincere thanks and heart-felt apologies to Dr. Seuss, although I do believe he might have felt the same way, this spring.


Congratulations!  Today is your day.
It’s going to rain the whole world away!
Can’t get the car out – the driveway’s a Bay!

You have brains in your head.
(Well.  That’s what they said).
You’re on your own and you know what you know.
And YOU know where!  To Turdville you’ll  go!

You’ll look up and down streets. Look ’em over with care.
You’ll say, “They just passed my bike — by only a hair!”
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of cleat,
You’re too smart to go riding on any DAMN street.

And you may not find any you’ll want to go down.
In that case, of course, you’ll head straight out of town.
It’s opener there in the wide open air.
Out there things can happen and frequently do
To people on bikes, cars yelling at you.

And then things start to happen, don’t worry. Don’t stew.
Just go right along. You’ll get rained upon, too.

You’ll be on your way up! You’ll be seeing great sights!
You’ll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.
You still lag behind, despite your 12-speed.
You’ll be passed by the whole gang, they soon take the lead.
Wherever you bike, it won’t matter, you’re not best.
Karma bites ass – it rains upon you and the rest.


Except when you don’t.
Because, sometimes, you won’t.
I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true
Pouring rain and floods can happen to you.

You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch.
Your gang will fly past – you’ll be left in a Lurch.
After a 90% uphill with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then, that you’ll be in a Slump.

And when you’re in a Slump you’re not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.
You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
You ride slowly, carefully, those damn dogs there just BARKED.
A place you could strain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How deep is that f*cking sinkhole? How much can you spin?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right…
Chambers Chapel?  Damn uphill! Maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
No matter – it’ll be cloudy and windy, you’ll find,
A mind-maker-upper can’t make up his mind.

You can get so confused that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles cross weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place:

The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go, Or the rain to stop
Shit.  Leak in the roof.  Where’s damn mop?
Or the mail to come, with more stupid bills.
Like riding on bikes, it’s always UP hills
The waiting around for a Yes or No just said, IT’S GOING TO SNOW??

Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite
Or you asshole boss to go fly a kite
Waiting around for another Friday night
Or waiting for a chance to see some DAYLIGHT
Waiting, perhaps, for another damn break
But, no, JUST MORE RAIN, my yard’s now a LAKE.
I’ve flipped my wig, no more can I TAKE!
I’m going to bed, want to live? DO NOT WAKE.

It’s not in the bag…yet

It’s 7:05am Sunday, the day of my long run, and I have 18 on the books.

No, I am not blogging while I run.

It’s 39 degrees, raining and 11mph winds.  For once got it right – first time in about 10 days which, if it were a professional baseball player instead of a professional weather forecaster, it would get fired.  Yesterday.  Not that I’m bitter.

Additionally, I feel like I’ve been dragged behind a bus – I’m exhausted (HAHAHA exhaust-ed), my legs weigh about 800 pounds and they feel like overcooked spaghetti.

I texted Sara:  I’m bagging, so sorry, hate to leave you on your own and she replied she was doing the same thing.  We’re planning to hook up later, maybe noon.

Since I have all this time on my hands – having been up since 4am so I could run at 6am – I have done laundry, re-arranged the den, cleaned the kitchen and had breakfast.  For breakfast I made an omelet.  I sauteed all the leftover peppers and onion I had, threw in some black forest deli ham, two egg whites and an egg, and topped it with reduced fat cheese and salsa.  I also had 1-1/2 slices of homemade bread because before I made breakfast I was messing around online and read this:

When training, you want to eat enough, but not too many carbs. The amount of carbs you eat as you train for a run is almost just as important as the training itself! A normal American Adult should shoot for eating around 45-65% of their calories from carbs, a runner should eat closer to 60%.

This means:

If you are eating around 1200 calories per day….
-540-780 of your calories should come from carbs, which is about 135-195 grams of carbs.
-720 of a runner’s calories should come from carbs or 180 grams of carbs (which rises as race day gets closer and training tempo increases).

For more info check the whole blog –

I have probably not been getting enough carbs the past couple weeks as I’d cut out bread due to the fact that I also read a couple weeks ago that a serving of bread is the highest source of sodium in our daily diet.  When I checked the cupboard I found that a serving of my multi-grain bread has 170mg of sodium and a serving of Tostitos multi-grain chips has 120mg.  So…it’s a trap.  Especially in view of the fact that it was a total fail when I tried to use the chips to make a ham sandwich.

However, I have a solution:  my bread machine – in which I will now start making whole grain bread myself and will not add so much salt.

Ta.Da.  And it could help explain the tiredness and heavy legs.

Then I saw that my friend Camille had posted a video of the proper way to use a foam roller  Watching the vid I realized I have not been making good use of the foam roller which could also explain some of the issues with my legs.

Maybe it’s not a bad thing to be a bit flexible in the running plans.  If is right – and it’s on a roll now, batting .100 here – the sun should come out about 11am, I can still get my run and in the meantime I learned valuable info, and the den looks nice.

Also I have a softy snoring, velvety soft kitty asleep on my lap *ooooommmmmm*

Damn.  I. am. good.

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